Inside
by reading
Summary: Dean's POV of the conversation with Luke post-Jus in Bello. Strangers and Angels 'verse.


Inside

_Inside_

_Companion to __Outside__. Dean's POV of the conversation with Luke Post-Jus in Bello. I haven't done anything like this before, so I'm not sure how well it works. We'll see!_

_xxxx_

Dean jiggled the little bag Ruby had tossed him, not looking up when she slammed the door behind her. He raised a hand to rub wearily over his face. Hendrickson dead. Little Nancy dead.

"I'm going out." Sam's voice, leaden, brought Dean's head up.

"Yeah," Dean said heavily.

The door shut more softly behind Sam than it had Ruby, but it still seemed to echo through the quiet room.

Dean fingered the supple leather of the charm in his hand, mind blank, unable to function through the fog of shock and hopelessness Ruby's words had left in her wake. After a couple of minutes, Dean shook himself and tossed the bag onto the nightstand. Saw Sam's there, too.

Dean stayed seated on the bed and tried to figure out what to do next. He needed to think through what Ruby had said, but couldn't make himself do it. He turned his attention to something else. Something tangible – what next?

The television said that they were dead. OK. What did that mean? If they were off the grid, no longer wanted, then… Dean's brow wrinkled. Would Luke get some sort of notification of that? He bit his lip and reached into his pocket to pull out his phone.

Both Luke and Jo had left voice mails that Dean hadn't returned. They'd sounded hesitant and gentle, two things Dean hadn't been sure he'd be able to deal with. So he'd skipped over the messages, saved them, listened to them occasionally when he thought maybe he'd be strong enough to talk and not emotionally vomit all over whoever answered the phone. Still hadn't actually called them back.

He ran his thumb over the case of the cell. They'd worry if he didn't call.

When Luke answered, Dean felt the words freeze in his throat and he was barely able to stammer out a greeting.

"Dean, hey! Long time, no hear, kiddo." Luke's voice came across the line, clear and strong.

"Uh, yeah. We…." Guilt and paralysis and the need to talk to someone who could help him make sense of the mess they'd gotten mired in. This had been a mistake.

"That wasn't meant to be a dig, Dean. Just an observation."

Dean could hear the apology and resignation in the other man's tone. He shouldn't have called. This was too hard. What had he thought was going to happen anyway? "Yeah. Well."

Dean wasn't sure where to go from here. Did he just jump right in and say, "Hey, we're not dead. Don't worry! Bye." It seemed unlikely that he could get away with no explanation at all, and how did he even begin to explain what had just happened, what had _been_ happening.

"How are y'all doing?" Luke asked.

"Fine." The response was unthinking and Dean grimaced at the lie. _Well, actually, we've joined up with this demon who wants Sam to be the ruler of all the demons because we think maybe she'll be able to save me from hell. And Sam _SamSamSam_ actually thought maybe we should kill a virgin to get out of a tight spot last night. So, yeah, things are fine. How are things with you?_

"Good," Luke said and Dean blinked, caught for just a second between what was going on in his head and what was actually being said out loud.

"Good." Luke said again, and there was another awkward pause.

_Oh, right, my turn._ "Uh. How about you guys?"

After a moment's hesitation Luke launched into a rundown on the entire family, and Dean felt himself relax into the normalcy of life at the Sweeds'. Baseball games and girls and home repairs and grades and laughter. This. This… was something. A reminder of something worth holding on to.

When Luke finished, Dean didn't feel any pressure to speak and let himself just rest in the silence.

"What's going on, Dean?" Luke asked finally. It was asked easily, concern and an offer of comfort in equal measure.

"Yeah," Dean said in resignation. He paused. There was no getting out of this, and he might as well say it. "I don't know how those wanted things work, but you may get one that says Sam and I are dead." He hesitated again. "We're not. Obviously. I just didn't… We didn't want you to worry."

There was no response from Luke for a second. "OK," he said. And paused again. "What happened?" he asked.

Dean put a hand over his eyes and exhaled softly. "It's a long story."

"I got plenty of time."

Dean took a second to think through what to say. What he could say and what he couldn't – or wouldn't.

"We, uh, we got caught," Dean started. "In Colorado a couple of days ago. The Fed that was after us showed up and… A bunch of demons surrounded the podunk police station where they were holding us and trapped us. Me and Sam and everyone else in there. We, uh, fought our way clear, and Hendrickson, well, you know, it was hard for him not to believe us any more after he'd, you know, seen it. So he let us go. Said he'd say we were dead. Had been killed when the helicopter blew up."

Dean stopped and cleared his throat. It was almost too much to think about – the fight and the moment of camaraderie with Hendrickson. To think that what had seemed like a possible alliance had so quickly turned to dust.

"We, uh, found out later that after we left another demon showed up. Killed him. Killed everyone that was left." Dean's throat closed around the words, and he had to clear his throat again. "But I guess Hendrickson had already called in that we were dead because that's what the official story is."

Luke didn't say anything for a long minute, but Dean didn't really notice, lost in his own thoughts – regret and a growing feeling of dread.

"I'm sorry," Luke finally said. "That it happened that way."

"Yeah," Dean agreed heavily.

"Are you boys OK?"

The question hung there in the silence, and Dean fought against the desire to tell Luke everything. "Yeah," he said, filling the space. Debating. "We're fine."

"Yeah?" Luke's voice was almost unbearably gentle, testing, and Dean felt the need to talk well up inexorably from a place inside himself that he generally liked to deny existed. But he couldn't get a handle on what was happening and he couldn't talk about it with Sam because Sam was beginning to scare the hell out of him.

"Do you… do you believe that it's better to sacrifice one person and save a bunch of people than to save one person and have a bunch of other people die?" Dean hated the slight stutter he heard in the question. Hated the uncertainty and the fear behind it.

"I guess it depends. Is the sacrifice willing?" Luke's voice was thoughtful. "And will it _really_ save other people?" he went on. "Or is that just the story that's being sold?"

Dean couldn't help the blink. That was what Ruby had _said_. But had that been true? _What the hell, Dean?_

"Tell me what happened, Dean." Luke's insistence broke Dean out of the momentary reverie. "It's hard to answer that kind of question without any context."

Dean took a second, trying to judge what to say, not _wanting_ to tell Luke what they'd actually considered. What Sam…

"When we were trapped," Dean started hesitantly, careful of his words, "a girl we've… we've been working with… said she could get us out… if we … sacrificed this other girl. She said that if we sacrificed this girl that everyone else would live. Just the one girl would die."

Dean stopped, unconsciously holding his breath.

"Dean…" The one word was an icy whisper, denial underneath it. "Please tell me you didn't…"

"We didn't." Dean said it tiredly, couldn't put any kind of punch or power to it. "We didn't," he said again. "But Sam…"

Dean couldn't say it, couldn't put the words "But Sam thought we should" out into the air where Luke could hear them.

"It's just that…" Dean hurried on, hoping that Luke hadn't caught the evasion. "We fought our way out and thought we were clear. But. After we were gone, the demon went back to the police station and killed them all. Killed Hendrickson, the deputy." Dean felt a yawning pit of sorrow in his gut. "The girl," _innocent, pure_, "we… She died anyway, and…" It had been for nothing, he hadn't saved…

"Dean. Listen to me." Luke's voice intruded again, demanding Dean's attention. "You did the _right_ thing. There are lines you don't cross, no matter what the cost. Do you understand me? This girl who died. Dean, you didn't kill her. The demon killed her. And Hendrickson and the deputy. It's tragic, Dean. It is. But it is _not_ your fault. It may be hard to believe, but there's integrity even in the fighting of a war."

"But." Dean wasn't quite willing to let go of the guilt yet. "If we'd… if she was going to die anyway. And Hendrickson and the deputy would have been saved…. Maybe it would have…"

"Dean." Luke interrupted him again and Dean wondered if he should feel this relief that Luke kept stopping him, not letting him head down the path of blame and regret. "Do you think it would have been worth it to the two men who died to be saved that way?" Luke asked sharply.

"No," Dean said without a doubt. Hendrickson had been with him on that, no question. Dean knew that for sure.

"I would think not," Luke said. "And what guarantee did you have that they really wouldn't have died?"

Dean knew there was no way to know for sure, whatever Ruby had said. _Bitch._

"Dean, I know I'm not telling you anything you don't already know, but… Scripture calls Satan 'the father of lies' and 'the deceiver.' And his servants are true to their master. They _lie_. And even when they do tell the truth they're still deceivers. Even when they tempt us with the truth, they're never – _never_ – telling the whole story."

Dean couldn't help the slight wry smile at Luke quoting scripture at him, even as he bit back a sigh, trying to process what Luke said. Demons _lie._ That much he knew was true for himself. And this idea of using truth to deceive as well…

"Don't lose sight of who the enemy is, Dean, do you hear me?"

Dean didn't respond immediately, still thinking.

"Dean, are you listening to me?"

Luke's voice was a snap and Dean couldn't control the reflexive, "Yes, sir."

Dean heard Luke sigh on the other end of the call.

"Dean, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell. It's just… You're scaring the crap out of me, kiddo."

Dean could hear the tremor in Luke's tone, and it felt like a punch to his gut, knowing that he was worrying Luke. "Sorry," he whispered.

He didn't know what to say next, found himself waiting, needing to hear what Luke would say.

"OK," Luke finally spoke again. "Listen, Dean. I know that you and Sam are dealing with some pretty weighty stuff right now. That you're trying to figure out how to break the deal, how to keep you out of hell. But…. Dean, don't…. Just…."

Dean stayed quiet when Luke seemed to run out of steam. He was too drained to try to figure out where Luke was headed with this.

"Dean, do you remember when… when we talked about choice? About Sam having to make choices and you… you being the one who… could … who might be able to help him make the right ones?"

Another blow to his solar plexus and Dean closed his eyes, remembering—lost, hurting, the smell of hay and horses, a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah," he breathed.

"I don't think that's changed," Luke said softly, and Dean could hear the uncertainty in the other man's voice. "I think there are choices—hard choices—impossible choices—that y'all are going to have to make in the next weeks."

_Y'think? _Dean couldn't help the sarcastic, bitter words that popped into his head.

"And, Dean. I want you to be careful about the choices you make. There are going to be temptations…. For both of you. And I don't… don't sacrifice more than you already have, kiddo, OK?"

_What more is there to sacrifice?_ Dean thought, almost hysterically. _I'm going to __hell_. _And it's beginning to look like I may be taking Sam with me. _The thought brought him up short. _What would I do, _he wondered suddenly_, to keep Sam out of hell. To protect that innocence, to…._

"Dean." Luke's voice was steadier now, emotion tamped down. "Listen to me, OK? I suspect that there's something you're not telling me."

Dean didn't say anything. _I can't_, he thought desperately. _I can't._

"Whatever it is, Dean. _Whatever_ it is, you trust your instincts, you hear me? You've got good ones, Dean. You made the right decision not to sacrifice an innocent, kiddo, whatever happened later. The _right_ decision. Don't second guess that."

It was nice to think that was true. He wanted to believe it. And he knew that Luke needed him to believe it.

"OK," Dean said. For Luke's benefit right now. Maybe his own later.

"Good," Luke said. Dean could hear the uneasiness even in Luke's response. "Dean…" Luke started.

The door opened and Sam stepped into the room

"I gotta go," Dean said abruptly, cutting Luke off.

"Who is that?" Sam asked, brows drawn down.

"Luke," Dean said as casually as he could.

"Oh." And Dean could see a hitch of fear in the expression that flashed across his little brother's face. Fear that Dean was talking about him. Telling Luke what had happened, that Sam….

"Sam says 'hey,'" Dean said to Luke, eyes never leaving his brother's.

"Tell him 'hey' back," Luke said and then after a second. "I'll let you go. But Dean. You call me any time, OK? Whether I know exactly what's going on or not, I'm always here."

Dean cleared his throat. "Yeah," he whispered and felt the weight of his brother's gaze on him. "Thanks."

"You boys take care. We love you."

Dean squeezed his eyes shut against the sudden sting. _God damn it. _"Uh, yeah. Us, too," he said, hating the awkward way it sounded. But couldn't just say it back.

Dean hung up and sat on the bed watching Sam move around the room, doing something weird that looked like straightening up.

"How's Luke?" Sam said, going for casual, too, and failing miserably.

"Fine."

Sam let that be for a second before asking, "And everyone else?"

"Fine," Dean said again. He was baiting his brother, and he wasn't sure why.

Sam turned away from the bed he'd just jerkily made and faced Dean, shoulders held tensely. "What?"

Dean raised an eyebrow. "What?" he repeated.

Sam's jaw clenched. "Dean…"

"I just wanted to let him know that we weren't dead. In case he got some sort of law enforcement update about us," Dean caved.

"Oh." Some of the tension seeped out of Sam. "Is that all?"

Dean hesitated. Shrugged.

"Dean." It was a plea. "Did you tell him…?" Like he was afraid that Dean had told on him. And surely it said _something_ that Sam didn't want Luke to know.

"No. Not…. " Dean rubbed his hand over his eyes. "Just, generally, you know? I didn't mean to. I just…" He dropped his hand and looked over at his brother.

"Yeah," said Sam with a wry smile, understanding. "What did he say?"

"That we made the right choice."

Sam was quiet. "That you made the right choice," he said softly. And Dean wasn't sure if it was blame or agreement.

Dean looked at his brother and then away. "We made the decision together, Sammy," he returned gently.

Sam sighed and moved to sit on the bed across from Dean. "Do you think it was the right one? Even though…" he trailed off.

Dean lay back on the bed, putting an arm over his face as he thought about it. "I don't know. Maybe?" he said. "We didn't kill anyone, Sammy, and that's something, right? Even if… even though they died, we didn't kill them. And… we didn't have any guarantee they wouldn't die. Whatever Ruby said." He sighed. "She's a demon, Sam. And we have to remember that. We can't…." He stopped. There was baggage now even with calling her a demon, knowing that might be his own fate. _Maybe_, he thought. _Demons lie_.

"Yeah." Sam's agreement was just a breath of air as he lay back on his own bed.

They both lay there for a long time. Until Sam's stomach growled noisily.

"You hungry there, Sammy?" Dean asked and Sam huffed out a laugh.

"I think maybe I am," he agreed.

Dean hauled himself upright. "Let's eat then."

xxxx

_End._


End file.
